Demons Fall
by AlreadyPainfullyGone
Summary: Sequel to Demon Deal - follows Demon Castiel and Dean through the important moments of season four...with a twist. Season five to follow.
1. Chapter 1

So basically continuing the whole Demon Castiel/Dean thing, using different key scenes from series 4-5 as and when I could see them fitting with the idea. Picks up after "Demon Deal" which ends with Sam's return from Hell. Focuses mainly on the idea that Castiel is aware that he is working for Lilith, and has to make sure Sam breaks the final seal (as the angels want him to) by keeping Dean occupied.

Dean holds out a month before he does the summoning spell.

For a while he's tried to convince himself that Sam is back, so whatever was going on with him and Castiel can stop. The only reason for it was his own crippling fear of being alone, without that he has no reason to let the demon back in.

He's lying on a twin bed in a dingy room, listening to Sam shift in the midst of another nightmare. It hits him then that he needs Cas. Not, he requires his help, his insight or his companionship. Because frankly, that's insane. But he needs him, regardless.

Ten minutes later he's outside, ritual at the ready.

The first thing Castiel does is hurl him against the parked sedan two spaces away.

The first thing he says is, "What took you so long?"

A while later they're lying, panting, against the car, Dean propped up against the wheel arch with his shirt and fly open. Castiel is similarly dishevelled, leaning partially against his chest. The demon shifts, turning to face him.

"You've met an angel." It's not a statement, it's a lead in.

"Yeah, Ruby, or called itself Ruby anyway. It's what pulled Sam out of Hell."

"For a reason." His eyes are darker than normal, but not black. He's thinking about something, something he thinks he should say but can't. It's unusual for Castiel to hold anything back.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone has a reason. For everything."

Dean can't think of anything to say to that. Cold air hits his chest, Castiel is gone.

On the Head of a Pin

Dean stared at Ruby and Uriel. They'd gone insane, quite literally leapt right off the deep end.

"You want me to..."

Ruby stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm, Dean shrugged it off. Through the tiny reinforced glass window of the cell door he can see Castiel. The thing he's chained to looks like a rudimentary star of David. The Devils traps on the floor are out of view but Dean can imagine the angels have taken every precaution.

They want him to torture Castiel. Castiel who apparently knows something about the angel murders, because he's working with Crowley. Crowley who tormented Sam in Hell.

Dean knows Cas is evil. Has been evil all the time he's known him. Hell, it was Cas who got him hooked on demon blood. Castiel killed Bobby.

He still can't do it.

"Dean this information is imperative." Ruby's voice is blank as usual "Under different circumstances we would have approached Sam. He has the experience." Dean feels a spasm of horror. "But your prior relationship makes this..." she struggles for a phrase that's remote enough to not sound sinister.

"More effective" Uriel smirks.

Dean forces himself to accept the facts. No one is coming to help him. The angels don't give a damn how hard this is. If he refuses, and God how he wants to, they'll go to Sam or someone else.

He lets them lead him into the cell. Then it's just him and Castiel.

The demon almost looks surprised.

"Cas." Dean watches him for a moment before turning to the trays of instruments. He doesn't know a lot about torture, but he knows about demons. He grabs the holy water. Castiel sets his jaw. He's not giving anything away here. It's familiar, like every other time they've been together.

"You get one chance here Cas. Tell me what you know about Crowley."

Castiel says nothing, only watches him with eerie fascination, like he's waiting for something.

He takes a knife, runs it through the holy water, some salt. Makes a shallow, smoking cut across Castiel's collar bone. The hiss of pain Cas produces is somehow both gratifying and appalling.

"Tell me about Crowley." Castiel barks laughter, grimacing as the blade is drawn across his chest. Blood runs, steam rises and angry welts spring up in its wake.

"I don't know anything about Crowley" he sounds almost pitying "but...you should know" he lowers his voice, mocking him. "Your angel friends are playing you." Dean doesn't respond, just moves back to the instruments and dunks a silver rosary in holy water.

"And really who isn't these days." Castiel continues, gravely serious. Even though he's taunting him Dean senses he isn't getting any pleasure from this. That alone surprises him.

"Angels, Sam, God...Me" Dean meets his eyes and frowns at the expression there. Castiel is willing him to understand something.

"Surprising." Dean gouges the larger cut and packs it roughly with the drenched beads, then salt, his finger slide over the slick flesh, opening the wound. Castiel throws his head back, choking a howl of pain. "Tell. Me. About. Crowley."

"I. Don't. Know. Anything." Castiel's face is a mask of barely controlled pain and anger. His eyes are black, hair hanging over his face and blood running from his wounds. Dean grabs a flask of holy water, bringing it up to his lips, takes a drink. Castiel's furious eyes turn ever so slightly wary. His voice lowers, grinding with unease.

"What are you..." Dean crosses the space between them and brings their mouths together, hard.

The pain is instant and blinding. The water scorches like hot sand and molten iron, reaching the back of his throat and sliding down. He thrashes and Dean moves away, only to bring another mouth of holy water to his neck. His mouth deposits poisonous caresses to his shoulder, near the cut on his chest and down. He pulls back just after marking Castiel's hip. His mouth is marked with the demons blood. Castiel is sagging against the chains that bind him but still meets his eyes defiantly.

"Tell me." He whispers. "Or I go lower."

For a moment he fears the holy water's robbed Castiel of speech entirely. Dean is suddenly struck by what he's done. This isn't just interrogation anymore. This has hopped the border into something else. The demon coughs blood, spitting it as far as possible. Dean reaches up to wipe the remainder away.

"Cas..." Black eyes slide away from his, a crease forming between them as he looks at the floor. Then, shockingly, he laughs.

"Cas." Dean barks. Something isn't right here.

"The devils trap..." He spits again, grimacing, "is faulty, Dean"

Dean's eyes tick to the symbol, blurred by dripping water, then back to the demon on the rack.

"Someone wants you dead." With a jerk he breaks his bonds and throws Dean into the table of instruments. "Promise I'll stop before then."

The angels don't help. They probably left the second Dean agreed to go along with their plan. In any case whoever is killing the angels, and Dean has a pretty good idea, won't want him to survive.

He lives because Castiel allows it.

What else is new?

The pain of Cas's entry flares with each thrust. He can feel the wetness of blood on his back where the demons wounds are still open. Over him he can hear Castiel's rasping breaths and the curses he's spitting out. The pace picks up and Dean, despite his best efforts to stay still and silent, lets out a strangled groan. Inside of him something catches the force of the impact, pleasure burning white behind his eyes. Every move Dean makes, involuntary or otherwise, is punished by the hand wrapped around his neck.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut as it cuts off his air again. The beating he got was light considering the torture he dealt out. Usually Castiel never hurts him, no more than a deep bite or scratch, maybe a nest of bruises. This is different. Dean stays still because Castiel is claiming back what he's lost.

The violent sounds mashed against his throat become lower, keening sounds. The hand on his neck, loosens, drops down to rest on top of his own, fisted on the concrete. The thrusts become erratic, then slow, as Castiel deliberately reigns himself in.

"Cas..." It's almost choked off, he's too tense for this, for anything more than being used.

"Shhhh" He buries his face in the hunters neck, exhaling softly. The hand that isn't intertwined with Deans reaches underneath his straining body. The sound the hunter makes is wrecked, a strangled sob of relief. Castiel strokes him and slowly thrusts.

"Cas..."

"Dean" The demon nips at his neck, catching the pulsing flesh. He relaxes. Castiel is back in control, punishment over, normality restored. He brings them both off lazily and slumps next to him on the ground, curled against is back.

Dean turns to face him, catches Castiel examining his wounds speculatively.

"Not bad" He rubs a thumb against one of the holy water burns that mark his torso. "Did you have fun?" His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "I had fun."

The Rapture

They find Cas exactly where the answer machine message says he'll be. The warehouse is...well wrecked doesn't cover it. Partially demolished is more like it, Castiel is almost hidden by debris.

"Cas!" Dean shakes him roughly by the shoulder, Sam waits a short distance away. He hasn't seen Castiel since the night he returned to Dean's side. The night he chose to ignore the scent of sex that filled the motel room. Even though he's concerned for his brother, when the demon finally coughs and opens his eyes, Sam's a little relieved. For about thirty seconds.

Castiel jerks violently away from Dean and looks frantically around the warehouse, catching sight of Sam.

"Cas?" Dean looks down on him, realisation and not a little horror making its way into his voice.

"No" The man meets his eyes and he can see the anger there "It's me, Jimmy."

Sam sees this as a good moment to step between the two.

"You're, uh..."

"The guy you haven't been helping for the last year? Yeah, that's me." He gets up, still beaming apocalyptic rage at both brothers. Then he looks away, towards the warehouse door.

"Hey..." Dean steps forward; this guy is the only clue they have to where Castiel's gone. Judging from the half finished Enochian symbol on the ground he can guess who forced him to leave his chosen body.

"Get the hell away from me." The guy backs away, but not before Sam see's the fleeting fear that Dean's proximity creates. For the first time he understands.

"Uh, Jimmy?" Cold blue eyes meet his. "I know that this whole year...I know what possession feels like, so I understand..."

"You understand nothing." He practically growls. "I've been missing for a year, my wife must be..." he breaks off and turns angrily to Dean "So that you, you and the...thing that stole my body, and used it to kill and...so that you can get off."

"I'm..." Dean's expression is the most conflicted Sam has ever seen. For the first time he considers the relationship his brother is in, because after a year it's not really in fling territory anymore. How has he reconciled it? The knowledge that Castiel is using someone, someone alive and fully conscious, to be close to him.

"He told you!" There's an edge of hysteria to the accusing shout. "That bastard told you, and you did nothing."

Overhead the string of hurricane lamps flickers and dies. Jimmy's eyes widen.

"No" it comes out almost a whisper. "No, this is not happening again."

Because he knows what's happening. A year ago, back home, the same blackout had occurred and he'd seen the smoke. A writhing mass of black smoke that choked him and pushed him to a corner of his own mind. Worse than that feeling had been the voice, his voice only different, addressed to the empty room.

"Settle down and nothing bad will happen to your family." Jimmy feels fear somehow, trapped in his own mind. "and that's not a promise I usually make. But these are special circumstances" the voice becomes authoritative. "Be thankful."

More lights flicker in the warehouse, a wind comes from nowhere and stirs the dust from the floor. Sam can't bring himself to help, he's stuck between doing the right thing and wanting his brother to keep the one thing that brings him any measure of peace. Then there's Ruby, the angel that pulled him out of hell and is currently sporting her own stolen body. He can't bring himself to judge Castiel, not for this at least. Jimmy looks from one brother to the other with resignation. The wind picks up.

"You have no idea." His drawn and angry face twitches with private humour. "At least I'm not the only one getting screwed."

Black smoke bursts into the warehouse, funnelling down into Jimmy's body. By the time Castiel is fully in control, Sam is gone, leaving Dean to it. Cas blinks, looks around and then focuses on Dean.

"You're back."

"Dean..."

"No, just..." his face screws up in disgust. "Take him home and get back to hell." He looks the demon in the eye. "If I see you again, I'll kill you myself."

Lucifer Rising 

This is admittedly what he would expect of a waiting room for heaven.

Shame he's a little distracted by the fact that Sam's off somewhere trying to take down Lilith, alone. Ruby's standing on the other side of the room. She won't take him to Sam or let him speak to him. The angels have closed ranks. They're going to let Lilith break the final seal.

Right after she kills his brother.

"Dean" Ruby's expressionless voice comes from behind him and he flinches. "I know this is difficult, but it must be done." Zachariah, chapter one, verse two.

"Do you wish for me to leave?" Dean very nearly says yes, almost shouts at her to leave him the hell alone.

"Bring Cas here."

Silence.

"Castiel." He clarifies. "Can you bring him here?"

Ruby looks at him for a long moment and then vanishes. Just long enough for him to doubt she'll return, she does. Castiel is with her. He's still wearing Jimmy Novak, but his clothes are different. Same coat, black suit and a slightly cleaner white shirt. Grey tie. Castiel notices the direction of his gaze.

"He changed them, when I sent him home."

"Course he did." Dean feels rage uncurling in his stomach. Castiel takes a step towards him, his brow creasing in an urgent frown.

"Dean, Sam needs your help..."

"I know!" The dam breaks, maybe it's seeing Castiel again or just that he's confirmed his fears. "I know, She knows he's coming, Cas, he doesn't stand a chance against Lilith..."

"Lilith is the final seal." His voice is dead, cold.

"What?"

"Lilith is the first demon, the final seal on Lucifer's prison. When Sam kills her, the cage opens and the apocalypse will start."

"You knew" Dean's fist connects with the demons jaw, it has no noticeable effect but it makes him feel slightly better. "You knew the whole time and you didn't tell us."

"I tried." He practically growls, eyes flicking black for a second. His shoulders sag. "I'm sorry."

"It's the end of the world Cas, you need a better word than sorry." Silence hardens around them. Dean feels helplessness crawling around inside him, Sam is somewhere else freeing Lucifer because the angels lied to him, to them. At this point the knowledge that Castiel has been lying since day one is a welcome distraction.

"So, this must have been fun for you, right?" Castiel cocks his head to one side, his questioning look grates against Dean's nerves. "Being up here, Lucifer's man on the inside. Hell you even had me believing it."

"And you swore to obey Heaven." Castiel's face twists in revulsion but his voice remains soft, urging Dean to understand. "You sent me away. Do you have any idea..." Somehow he's gotten closer, too close. "You wanted me to let Jimmy go? I did. For the last month I've been between here and Hell, not a nice place to be." This is the first time Dean can remember Castiel being gentle, but he is. His hands resting on Dean's waist, eyes flicking over Dean's face.

"Lucifer is our God, Dean...he..." He closes hi s eyes, shakes his head. It's too complex to explain here, like this.

"Yeah, well, looks like you'll be seeing him soon."

"Don't bet on it." Cas's lips meet his, the closest they've ever come to reverent. Something presses against his hand. He pulls away, glances down. It's a knife.

"Cas..."

"Lucifer can take hell on earth, and shove it." A slight smirk ghosts across his face, the words aren't his they're definitely Dean's. "Because I see nothing but pain here; I see inside you, I see your guilt, your anger, confusion...and it's just not doing anything for me. I think you were right, I'm just not demon enough."

The room trembles slightly, a sure sign that Zachariah is on his way, Dean grips the knife and cuts his palm, quickly etching a sigil onto the wall. His hand hovers over it as he glances back at Castiel.

"I do this. We'll both be hunted, they'll probably kill us."

"They'll try."

It end's badly, luck of the Winchesters, Dean isn't surprised. After Castiel got him to the convent he lost track of him. Sam had already killed Lilith, Lucifer's prison was gaping open. By the time he starts looking for Castiel it's too late. Demons hate traitors as much as anyone else, Castiel's been taken back to Hell.


	2. Chapter 2

Yeah, I moved it's a terrible life because frankly I couldn't resist. Unfortunately some of the most amazing moments don't fit with the idea, but I hope the ones that do came out alright.

The End

At some point the world went crazy.

Between the Croats, the demons and Chuck babbling about toilet paper...Dean's had enough. Ok, so he's the Michael sword, the vessel of the holy douche himself. Dean can just about believe that, even though it's not happening if he has any say.

But this is...God, its worse than he's ever thought the future could be.

Dean, the other, future Dean, is acting like he can't feel the losses the camp has suffered. That the deaths of countless men and women mean nothing to him, because this is a war and people die in wars. Dean follows himself around the camp, watches as he deals with the day to day running of the last outpost of humanity. It's so cold, he doesn't joke or yell or try to raise morale. There's nothing in him but the will to carry on. Even that's wavering.

Five years and he's dead inside.

But Dean expects that.

Hell, Sam's dead, filled with the devil and tearing humanity apart. Everyone he knows or knew or loved, is dead. The Impala's gone, Lawrence is a smudge on an old map somewhere and every town they've ever hunted in is overrun with monsters.

The world is ending, slowly, painfully.

But the craziest thing? It's almost worth it.

The sight of Jimmy Novak momentarily freezes him in his tracks. His older self notices, shakes his head and pointedly greets the man as 'Jimmy'.

"Jimmy, are you on watch tonight?"

He nods, glances at the younger Dean without surprise, he's probably seen enough to never question anything.

"I'll meet you at point three." Not a question.

Jimmy nods again.

Once they're a little way from the other members of the camp his older self turns to him.

"Jimmy lives here, his family..." his mouth twitches and it's the first sign of grief Dean's detected in him so far. "Pontiac isn't even there anymore."

Dean watches Jimmy from a distance. He's unloading the trucks down by the main gate. Not speaking to anyone, not looking at anyone, his mouth a line of effort. He looks different as well, like he stopped taking care of himself a while ago. His hair's longer and he's grown the shadow of a beard. Wearing the same ill-fitting khaki as everyone else he looks even skinnier. Dean wonders if Jimmy's family would still be alive had Castiel not possessed him. Or would it be the same, only with Jimmy lost along with his wife and daughter? Would that be better?

That night he paces the checkpoints off in lieu of sleep. Following the wooden structures from One to Twelve and noting the familiar symbols and hex bags every few meters. On his third circuit he hears voices. His own louder than the other. He checks his location, just off checkpoint three. Realises this is the reason he's out, no matter what he tells himself. The noise is coming from the woodland on the other side of the wall. By the time he's climbed over it occurs to him that it might be a trap, a demon trick. But it's not.

Jimmy and Dean are standing in the woods, a few meters away from each other. Jimmy has his arms wrapped around himself; Dean is staring fixedly at the ground.

"...like last time." Jimmy finishes, just as Dean gets within ear shot. His voice is almost emotionless, tired.

"I'll try."

"Do more than try." Jimmy catches Dean's eye and holds it. "last time I..."

"Alright!" Dean's trying to derail the conversation but his eyes don't leave Jimmy's. "It's not like I set out to hurt you."

"I know." Jimmy frowns "This is just...everything I've read about the end of days and this is it?" His smile has no humour "asking someone I barely know not to hurt me while we're..."

"We're not doing anything."

"Doesn't feel that way."

They both look up at a sound that Dean is too far away to hear.

"I'll..." Dean stops at Jimmy's look.

"I know."

Black smoke streams down towards the two figures. Jimmy jerks, his head falling back, then he recovers, looks around. He takes in his own appearance and then looks up at Dean.

"Cas?"

Dean knows now that this is too private. The naked need in the voice of his future self is too much. After a whole day of watching him, only now does he see himself in him. The hope that he's been feeling since Lucifer was freed flares uncomfortably. He hasn't seen Castiel since that night. This means, this future meeting means that he comes back.

Across the clearing the newly possessed body of Jimmy Novak approaches Dean. The kiss surprises him, it's not like Castiel, allowing Dean to control things. But he is, it's Dean who presses the demon against the nearest tree, his hands already searching under his clothes. Cas leans back against the tree, already gasping.

"How's...?"

Dean groans against his shoulder, reaching for Cas's fly. He moves his head, pressing their foreheads together.

"Later"

Castiel nods, swallowing uncontrollably as Dean's hand slips inside the baggy jeans. Dean turns away from the two of them, no matter how much he wants to, he can't watch this. Castiel's moans and whispered encouragement carry though and pretty soon he can't help but look up. They're foreheads are pressed together, breath clouding in the narrow space between their mouths. Dean catches the movement between them, Dean's still working on Cas, the demons hand catches at the front of the hunters jeans, earning a rough moan.

"This ok?"

"Yeah...don't...don't stop."

The space between their mouths closes, briefly ending the white stream of breath. Two strangled sounds cut through the silence. Dean sags against Castiel, pressing him closer to the tree.

"That" Castiel murmurs against Dean's ear. "was not nearly worth a month."

"I know" Dean absently runs a hand through the older man's hair, kissing him again. "Jimmy just..."

"Hates this. I know." Castiel's hands move between them, presumably ordering their clothes. "Also," He turns to look into the trees, directly at Dean, "When have you ever been able to hide from me?" His older self scans the trees, spots Dean as he reluctantly leaves his cover.

"Voyeurism, really? Didn't know I had it in me." Dean can't bring himself to reply.

"Cas?"

"Yes..." The demon looks him over carefully, then his brow creases with understanding. "You're from...after Lucifer was released." Dean nods. "Then you've got all this to look forward to." He says, without any trace of humour.

"Cas..." His older self glances at him warily, he doesn't want this to continue, knows he can't let his younger self know too much.

"I know. But...he could change this, did that occur to you? No more Croats, no more hanging around between here and the pit." His mouth tips upwards in a smile that is almost genuine. "No more furtive hand-jobs in the woods."

His older self stiffens, probably isn't used to being questioned. Castiel notices and moves closer so Dean can wrap an arm loosely around his waist.

Dean can't help but stare at them; he's never been this possessive of Castiel. Has never been allowed to be. Suddenly he can't stand being there, can't see any more of Castiel without missing his own demon. Neither of them says anything as he walks away. He knows that they both understand.

Castiel waits until Dean has gone.

"You missed me." Cas watches his younger self retreat with a strange look on his face.

"You have no idea." Dean regains Castiel's attention, turning him around and kissing him. Both their mouths are frozen. "But he doesn't know what's coming. How hard it's going to be."

"Yeah...I think we need to talk about that." He sighs and presses closer to Dean, lending some of his borrowed warmth to him through the layers of rough green material.

"Really?"

"I don't...I can't keep doing this." Dean pulls away suddenly, looking down at the demon with undisguised shock and pain. "Not like that." Castiel's hand rubs at the base of his spine. "not being with you, not being anywhere is...painful." His words are almost lost, muffled against Dean's shoulder. "I want to stay."

"Jimmy..."

"Not with Jimmy, not all the time. I'll only need him like this, when we get the chance." The hand that isn't resting on his back slides inside his jacket. It presses past layers of cloth and rests, cold and insistent on Dean's warding tattoo. "I want to stay with you." His voice is rougher; he looks Dean in the eye, barely an inch from his face.

"Cas..." Dean tries to pull away.

"I wouldn't..." There are so many things he would have to promise, so many ways in which Dean, this new harder Dean especially, doesn't trust him. "I wouldn't hurt you. I just need to be somewhere. Anywhere that isn't hell or somewhere in between, and I want to be here."

It's all it takes. That's what surprises him. Dean's had years of pressure on him, every argument, every threat and bribe and torment possible. But they never got what they wanted. Never managed to get the response that Castiel gets just by needing it badly enough. Just by being honest.

"Yes."

Dean looks into shocked blue eyes.

"I said yes, ok...I want you to stay."

When Jimmy regains consciousness on the ground he sees something different in Dean's eyes. The blood soaking slowly through his jacket isn't a worry, he knows it's just the scratch Dean's put through his tattoo. His eyes aren't black, even though he knows that Castiel is right there, behind them. They're just...Dean. More Dean than has been there for a while at least. Almost like he's not totally broken and fucked up for the first time since Sam said yes.

Jimmy's had Castiel in his head for long enough, on and off, to know that he loves Dean more than...well anything. Judging by the violent, terrifying things he feels when he see's Dean with anyone else, being felt or hurt by anyone else. Castiel is the demonic equivalent of smitten. It's almost the only reason Jimmy still lets Castiel use his body.

So, Jimmy knows Cas isn't going to hurt Dean or anyone else. Looking up at the hunter as he adjusts to the feeling of Castiel at the back of his mind, he can see that this is possibly the first good thing to happen for a long time.

It's a Terrible Life 

For all he was prepared to call Sam insane a day ago for suggesting a ghost was haunting the office...Dean couldn't deny it now. He'd seen the bodies of its victims himself. Seen the ghost briefly in the bathroom at the scene of the latest suicide. That's how he'd ended up here, breaking into the office after hours to look for the ghost's remains. Sam was off somewhere with security, waiting to be taken to the police station. It was all up to him. Which felt familiar.

The supply room was dark, he hadn't dared turn a light on, the former boss's office littered with cables and computer crap. There was no way he was ever going to find something as small as a lock of hair in all the chaos. Sighing he ran a hand over his face. At times like this...well, there had been no times like this, ever. He frowned. It just felt normal somehow, the pressure, the strain. It was almost pleasant, expected.

He noticed the smell a few seconds later. Though his breath remained invisible and warm, the smell crept in and sent red flags up in the dark part of his brain that remembered iron could stun a ghost.

Sulphur.

He leaves the supply room, following the odour as it intensifies. One of the offices down the corridor. Inside, through the glass wall, he can see one of the junior execs on the floor. Without pausing he throws open the door, crouching next to the fallen man. A quick check tells him there's nothing he can do to help him.

The stink of sulphur returns. Stronger. Hands grab him, hands stronger than anyone Dean's ever met. He finds himself pinned against the desk, legs stretched in front of him, unable to kick at the man holding him in place. Dimly he recognises the guys unshaven face, the scruff of dark hair and the rumpled suit.

"Jimmy?" He chokes against the hand around his throat. Jimmy cocks his head to one side and looks down at himself, when he next meets Dean's eyes his irises are black. Dean struggles against his grip. The man, the thing, seems unimpressed. He releases him with a jerk, only to send him flying into the wall. Dean struggles but he's held there by some kind of pressure, something the other man is doing to keep him there. Jimmy watches him for a second longer, and then turns to something Dean didn't see before. The secretary cowering in the corner.

He drags her from her position, crouched on the ground, throwing her down beside the dead man on the carpet. In his hand is a letter opener from the desk, blunt and not really that much good as a weapon in the hands of a normal man. Dean, with the knowledge of this thing's strength firmly fixed in his mind, has no doubt he can kill with it.

"No!" The invisible force keeps him pressed against the wall. Jimmy doesn't flinch at the sound, only lowers the pointed metal to the woman's throat and drags it down. Her scream is load, hoarse and piercing enough to make Dean recoil. Blood wells from the long cut, soaking her clothes and running slowly to the floor. Her scream fails, falls to a litany of whimpers, pleas and cries. Jimmy stands up, leans against the desk. He fixes his eyes on Dean.

"It feels like a long time since I've had this much fun." He says conversationally. His hands are slick with blood, he rubs them together curiously, lifting one to his mouth. Dean would spend the rest of his life (however short) denying it, but there is something enthralling about all this. Watching the other man deal punishment so easily, watching him lick the blood off of his hands casually.

"Jimmy..."

He shakes his head.

"No" He steps over the sobbing woman on the ground, coming to a stop inches from Dean. "I'm just borrowing him for...well, for as long as this takes." Turning back to the woman he wraps a hand around her throat, crushing bones and chocking off her whimpers.

"Stop it!" He can't do much else, pinned like he is all he can do is shout and watch as Jimmy, or at least his body, kneels over the secretary, crushing the life from her. He looks up at the interruption, smiles a little and grips harder, snapping her head back. Dean gags. The thing wearing Jimmy straightens up and approaches him.

"The problem with hell?" his voice is speculative, intimate. He runs a hand lightly up his chest leaving a trail of blood. "Nothing feels _this_ good down there."

Without warning a rough mouth closes over his own.

It was hard to concentrate. Hard to work out exactly what his response should be. That there was something...controlling Jimmy's body. The same thing that was holding him against the wall with some kind of psychic energy – clearly fear was ok right? But then, the same thing, whatever it was, was pressing Jimmy's body close against his own. One bloody hand roughly cupping his jaw as the other worked up under his shirt, then back over his belt. Dean should have felt fear, disgust, blind terror. He did, sort of, but underneath something stronger. It came down to one thing, he didn't want the lean body currently rubbing against his own to leave. No matter what was controlling it.

The other man was still moving, mouth still pressed against Dean's throat as his hands took care of his belt. Fear overcame confused desire for a few crucial seconds.

"Don't"

Black eyes met his a few seconds later. He held their gaze for a moment while the man cocked his head to one side, watching him with curiosity. Dean flinched as his hands returned to his belt, eyes not leaving his. The touch had changed though, no longer demanding but oddly patient. Chapped lips pressed against his, moving away to murmur less than an inch from his face, warm shallow breaths fanning over his face.

"You don't have to do anything." It was soothing, were it not for his black eyes Dean could have taken him for the submissive, shy man he was impersonating. "You just have to let me..." another shaky kiss "let me."

Whatever it was, Dean was willing to bet 'patient' and 'sensitive' weren't qualities it possessed. Which didn't explain the sudden change of pace. From the frown that was creasing the other mans forehead he wasn't the only one confused by the sudden tenderness. Then his hands succeeded in opening Dean's fly, speculation faltered in favour of a kind of blurred shock. He tried not to think of the blood slicked palm that was working him competently, the fact that once this thing was done using him he would probably be killed. Dean's trying so hard not to let his mind wander too far towards the truth or the pressure building inside him that the removal of the other mans attentions takes a second to filter into his brain. A second is all it takes for the same gore slicked digits to slide further back, pressing roughly. The chapped mouth over his swallows his strained sound of discomfort.

He knows enough in the hazy corners of his white collar mind to recognise this. He's being stretched. Prepared. Which should not, _should not_ make him twitch with excitement. The other man meets his eyes, arousal evident even through the oil black irises.

"You suddenly eager to have a demon inside you?"

A demon.

Any further thought is fractured as the _demon_ removes his hand and then presses further against him, pushing into him. The tiny amount of preparation has left him almost totally _un_prepared. A moan of pain escapes him. The pressure eases, though he doesn't withdraw. The other man reaches a hand down, pumping quickly over his agonisingly rigid flesh. Alternately boiling and freezing shudders of pleasure burst across his skin. This time as the demon enters him, Dean arches back against the wall and honest to god _growls_ in impatience. The sound is almost drowned out by the enraptured moan of the man moving inside of him. His head drops and his forehead presses against Dean's shoulder, teeth catching at the fabric of his shirt.

Dean closes his eyes, leans his head back against the wall. The combination of the hand on his dick, the intermittent brushes against his prostate and the filth the demon's growling against his throat is almost too much. And somehow not enough. In between whimpers and the groans that he can't keep to himself Dean manages to get together enough thought for words.

"Harder...god, please...just..."

A brutal thrust cuts off everything else. The demon bites down hard on his pulse. Choking something that sounds like "Fuck" against a mouthful of skin as he thrusts again.

Dean tastes copper when he finally comes. Blood flows into his mouth, he's bitten his lip. After a few more surges the demon's rhythm stutters and he climaxes. His mouth crushes against Dean's, moaning as he tastes blood. He thrusts lazily through his orgasm, finally pulling away and wiping blood from his mouth.

The demon backs away, zipping Dean up before himself. The invisible pressure holding him against the wall is gone. Dean doesn't know exactly when it disappeared, finds he doesn't care. Without it he takes a step forwards, though the other man is still between him and the door. The bodies of the man and his secretary are still on the floor by the door. He's expecting some motion from the demon, but none comes. He's frowning, focusing on some mid-point between the wall and the floor. Dean edges towards the door as quickly as his aching body will allow. Just as he reaches it the other man speaks, but not the threat or torment he was expecting.

"What's your name?"

He turns to see the demon watching him, tilting Jimmy's head curiously and looking intently at him. Dean's scared, but more than that he's tired. Suddenly so _fucking_ tired. Tired of working so hard in a job he doesn't even like for a reason he can't remember. Tired of being alone. Tired of wanting something and not knowing how to get it. Tonight is the first time anyone's touched him in what feels like months. The first connection with another living thing in all that time.

And that thing is a demon.

Suddenly it doesn't even matter. None of it. Not the bodies on the floor, not the blood on his face and mixing with spunk somewhere inside of him.

He wants to feel.

"Dean."

The demon swallows and inclines its head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Castiel." Dean frowns. "That's my name. Castiel."

Dean doesn't move, but somehow he senses that this exchange is new territory for both of them. The demon came here to enjoy itself, not much of a stretch to guess how. And yet he's still alive. Alive and feeling, for all the fatigue and fear, pretty damn sated.

"I'll be around." The demon says, just as a white light flares causing both of them to recoil. Somewhere out of the glare a hand reaches and Dean feels it land solidly on his forehead. Opening his eyes as the light dims, Dean sees the same hand, belonging to a balding man, tap Castiel.

There's a thirty second pause during which Dean's life flashes before his eyes. He blinks, takes in his suit, the goddamn tie and the fact that he feels hollow with hunger. Then it's eclipsed by Castiel. By the fact that Castiel is there, right in front of him. Even though his eyes are totally black, even though there's blood all over his hands, soaking the front of Jimmy Novak's shirt. Dean can't help but feel a stab of relief at the sight of him.

Even though Castiel is evil, has just killed two people and possibly tried rape him, Dean can't help the surge of relief that hits him when the demon opens his mouth.

"Dean, what the hell is happening?"

The balding man, the angel, Dean corrects himself, waves a hand at Castiel and he disappears. Dean rounds on him, feeling black fury for the first time since Lilith died.

"What did you do with him you sonofabitch?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll find a way back to you eventually." He smiles unpleasantly "Now that he's out of hell of course...thank me for that at any time."

The angel, Zachariah, retreads the same tired shit about Michael and Lucifer, as if Dean isn't aware exactly what he's risking.

Then the bastard goes in for the kill.

"You're a Hunter. Not because your dad made you, not because God called you back from Hell, but because it is what you are" he pauses, inches closer even as Dean flinches away. "More than that, it's in everything you do, I mean, look at Castiel, you love...'it'...or him, I suppose." His face wrinkles in disgust. "That's not nurture, that's your very own twisted nature, it's in you to want him. And you'll find your way to him in the dark every single time because you're miserable without him. You're good at this. It's given you everything." Zachariah jerks Dean's suit jacket straight. "Don't give it up."

The worst thing is, Dean can't deny it.

The one good thing? Castiel does come back. Finds Dean three days later in another crappy motel. Once Sam's done trying to stab him with the demon killing blade and they're alone again Dean is allowed a few hours of blissful reprieve.

Until he asks the one question he's been thinking of since Zachariah's little speech.

"Cas, how long were you in hell?" Because he knows that Hell punishes demons, just as sure as Heaven tortured Anna. Knows that a year is a long time to spend in hell. Curled next to him, naked on the uncomfortable twin bed, Castiel twitches in an aborted shiver. Powerful, dangerous as he is, Dean knows he hates being vulnerable. They're a long way from the future he's seen, the future where Castiel begs him for permission to possess him.

"A long time." He murmurs, eventually.

Dean can't think anything to say, but holds him tighter. He might not be able to protect Sam from the devil, to stop the world from ending. But he knows he's give a lot, almost anything, to keep Castiel out of the pit.

Including take his place.

The Point of No Return

Ruby brought Adam to them to protect from the other angels, but already Dean knows it won't be Adam who carries Michael onto the battle field. It will be him. It's all too much. He can handle Sam thinking he's an idiot for wanting to say yes to Michael. Can just about hold up when Sam tells him he's glad Bobby can't see him like this. But Cas too? Leaning against the wall of the dead hunters home, glaring at him.

"Maybe they've moved on from you, or they wrongly assumed Dean would have the strength to resist them."

"Blow me Cas"

The demon's brow creases in mild disgust and his eyes turn black before he gets his anger in check. Dean spends the rest of the day in the panic room. He's safe from Castiel in there anyway. When everyone's engrossed in planning the eleventh hour rescue he sneaks out.

"I'm Dean Winchester." The preacher steps back a little.

"Dear God."

"You've heard of me. Great, I need you to tell your angel buddies where to find me." He starts to pray. Dean shifts impatiently, soon Zachariah or some other angel will take him to Michael, and then it'll be over.

"You pray too loud." The preachers neck snaps sideways and he collapses to the street. Castiel steps over the prone body and pushes Dean back into an alley.

"Cas what are you..." A fist cuts him off, bouncing his skull against the bricks. Another blow knocks him across the alley. The demon takes him by the throat.

"This is your plan? To surrender to them?" He grates out, slamming Dean against the wall again. For the first time in over two years Dean is afraid of Castiel. He barely has time to draw breath before a brutal punch to the stomach drives it from him. He folds over but is hauled upright again. He can taste blood.

"Cas, please..."

Dean collides with the wall opposite, Castiel throws him up against it and brings his face very close. No longer shouting but deathly quiet.

"I. Gave. Everything. for you. And this is what you give to me?" Dean's pulled away from the supportive wall, kicked hard, he flies into a chain link fence and slides to the ground. Castiel stalks towards him from the mouth of the alley, glaring at the fallen, bloody hunter. Dean turns his head to retch blood onto the street. He can feel the demon standing over him, looking down. One more blow, that's all it would take. He raises himself up enough to look Castiel in the eye. They're black as he knew they would be.

"Do it."

The demon remains motionless. Hands curled into fists so hard they've gone white.

"Just do it!" He yells.

Just past Cas he can see the preachers body on the ground. The black eyes stare down at him for a long moment. Castiel uncurls his hands and takes a deep breath. Dean closes his eyes. The next thing he's aware of is a movement next to him. Castiel slides down the fence and sits on the ground, taking out a cigarette. Dean remembers something Sam said a while ago, how watching Ruby loose control was when he realised things had gotten serious. Dean looks at Castiel, no longer standing over him with his demon at the surface. Cas has reigned it in. Watching Castiel control himself in the face of overwhelming fury is something Dean has never witnessed before.

"You're not saying yes to him." Dean levers himself half into a sitting position, Cas slides an arm around him to hold him up.

"Since when do you care?" it's a fair point. Cas screwed him over, didn't tell him about Lilith until it ws far too late. Basically let Lucifer out to begin with and no matter what he's done since it doesn't make up for that. It's been for the wrong reasons, because he wants Dean, not because he believes in doing the right thing. Dean still doesn't understand why he saved Castiel from Sam, why he didn't let his brother kill him.

"I don't" Castiel's mouth is very close to his ear, lips running over his neck. His voice is deathly serious and strained. "Dean, I'm a monster. The world can literally go to hell for all I care. But I can't, not after I've helped you. They'd rip me to shreds and you know it. And that's where I'm going, if Lucifer wins, if Michael wins...Its over for me." His hand runs over Dean's chest, stroking where minutes ago it had driven into him. "So I'm making sure you win."

"Cas..."

"You're the reason I left hell." Two disturbing blue eyes fix him in place against the chain link fence. Dean almost, almost, feels...comfort. "You're the only one who's allowed to throw me back."


	3. Chapter 3

_Wow this took me a long time to get around to, I hope people are still interested in catching the end (or is it, season 6 and all) but I really couldn't think of what to put here. I hope it came off alright. _

Swan Song

"This thing, with Sam."

There's no warning, just like the first time, just like every time, Castiel is just there. He's wearing the body of Jimmy Novak and Dean wonders what that man is feeling, or if he feels at all anymore. Castiel might have made him sleep, hidden him from the reality of their situation.

Whatever gets him to sleep at night – that's what he'll believe.

"Letting him walk Lucifer back into his prison?" Dean takes another shot of whiskey, tomorrow they end the world or save it, their pretty much dead in any case.

"You know it's not going to work." Castiel says softly, sitting beside him. "There's almost no chance that it'll work."

"Great pep talk."

"If it does..." Castiel continues, stiffly, like he's practiced this, thought about it. "If Lucifer goes back into the pit, Sam with him...find somewhere, anywhere to go, and forget about hunting."

"Cas..."

"No. Sam told me about a woman...Lisa? You should go to her. Be normal." His voice is lazy, like he's hypnotised himself into believing this. He gets up and goes to investigate the bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass and drinking it down with the ease of long centuries of practice.

"And if I want you? If I live and you live and I _want _you?"

"A demon, in the body of an innocent man, with a family no less...a demon who lied to you, who'd screw over your brother, sacrifice everyone you've lost over again, hell even your parents if they were still around, if it meant I got to live, and I got to keep you." Castiel's voice is monotone and pointed. "You're right, lets buy a house...we'll steal a child together, one that looks like me."

"I'm serious." Dean restrains himself but feels anger filling him anyway. "Where are you going to go? When it ends?"

"Presuming Lucifer hasn't either gored me, or won out?" Castiel is quiet, sombre. "I have no idea." He holds Dean's eye, his tone strengthening. "But there is no future in this, Dean. Know that, before anything else happens. We end with Lucifer."

"I'll still want you."

"That doesn't mean I'm good for you." Castiel speaks with a finality that renders Dean incapable of arguing. Instead he gathers all his strength, every conviction he ever had and all the things that were worth fighting for, the few that still are, and he crosses the space between himself and a demon, ready to lose himself one last time.

They are both adamant, internally, even as they move together, even as Castiel spreads beneath him for only the second time since they've known each other, they are both certain that what they feel is not love.

They are both wrong.

They lose Sam to Lucifer, they lose everything to Lucifer and Dean drives into an almost empty graveyard with his Father's car and his Father's music and not much more besides an empty seat where Castiel should be.

He stands in front of the devil, the fallen angel wearing his brother's face. He stares at Michael, who was meant to steal his freewill, and settled for enslaving his half brother.

Dean realises he hasn't got a hope in hell.

Fire hits Michael, sending him away in a flurry of screams and flames and the stink of burning feathers. Castiel watches from his place by the car that drew up without Dean noticing. His arm is still held out, caught in the act of throwing.

"Castiel" Sam's voice. Lucifer's voice. "You've forgotten yourself." It means so many things, he's forgotten the devil who made him, forgotten his job, his species, his purpose. He's forgotten that before he was a demon he was a man, and a terrible one at that.

Lucifer snaps his fingers and Jimmy Novak splits open like a rotten fruit, spilling his mortal remains.

Black smoke screams towards the sky, and with a wave of his brother's hand it is incinerated.

Dean stands in front of the devil, and talks. Because it's all he has left to do.

Later, kneeling on the ground that sucked his brother and two angels down to hell, his face a beaten mess of blood and bruises, he'll wonder why it worked.

"Dean?" Castiel is standing over him, housed safely in Jimmy Novak's sullen meat.

"Cas?" his mouth hurts, everything hurts, but the demon crouches down, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok." A soft hand in his hair and he's being helped to his feet, resting against a smaller frame that might as well be steel for all that his weight seems to trouble the other man. "You need to go to a hospital."

"Sam..."

"Sam...Sam is no longer within my reach." He helps Dean into back of the impala, lying him down and closing the door. "You're my only concern right now." Castiel sits at the wheel of the car, slowly starting the ignition and going through the process of changing gears. There is no music, no sound except for the grass and small stones beneath the wheels, fading to the rumble of road and the quick press of the wind against the windows as the car speeds up.

"Cas?"

"Dean?" The demon looks up at the mirror, a frown of concern on his face as he checks on the man resting across the back seat.

"Don't leave." His voice is quiet, paper thin. "Don't leave me."

The silence is the most painful thing since watching his brother fall into hell, it puts his wounds to shame.

"I won't leave you." Castiel's voice is rough as usual, but cracked minutely, emotion showing through.

Dean allows himself to sleep then, or lose consciousness, he really has no idea. Only later will he come to wonder how Castiel is back. That for some reason a God no one believed in, a God no one could find, had brought a demon back to life, taking the soul of its host into heaven, and leaving a body for it to use.

Even later it will occur to him that they've won.

If you can call it winning.


End file.
